


American Beauty/American Psycho

by DaisukiRose



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: AB!Patrick, AP!Martin, Accidental Telepathic Sex, Alternate Universe - Twins, American Beauty/American Psycho, First Dates, Goth Martin, M/M, Pastel patrick, Patrick and Martin are twins, Telepathic Bond
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-13
Updated: 2016-12-14
Packaged: 2018-09-08 10:32:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8841196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaisukiRose/pseuds/DaisukiRose
Summary: “Boys, smile for your picture!” Patrick Stump watched as his frazzled mother tried to coerce him and his brother, Martin, to stand next to each other for just long enough to snap a photo. “Come on, a picture at the gates of the fair! It’s tradition!”	“It’s gay,” Martin huffed under his breath, finally coming to stand next to Patrick, reaching a hand up and running it through his dyed-black hair that was already sticking up in every direction. His glare, only accentuated by heavy rings of eyeliner, wasn’t centered on anyone in particular, but if looks could kill then everyone at the fair would certainly be dead. He shimmied awkwardly in his leather jacket, crossing his arms and trying to look tough as he stood next to Patrick.	“ I’m  gay,” Patrick rebuked, poking his brother in the shoulder and laughing, ocean eyes twinkling in the sunlight. He stood on the toe of his pastel blue Converse and twirled briefly, hand on the flower crown perched in his blond hair so it wouldn’t fly off, earning a laugh from his mom and a glare from his brother. He quickly smoothed down his pastel green sweater over a pair of cuffed white skinny jeans with a stunning smile aimed at his mother’s iPhone camera.





	1. Seventeen Years Ago

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [American beauty/American psycho](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8627200) by [BlueRabbits](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueRabbits/pseuds/BlueRabbits). 



> Thank you to BlueRabbits for letting me revamp her work! This was a lot of fun, I might continue this farther. :)

A doctor in a stark, white coat stood at the foot of Patricia Stump’s bed, clipboard in hand. “Your sons are healthy, a beautiful example of twins.” He says, and she lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding.

“When can I hold them?” She asks, looking around the room as if to search out a nurse.

“Uhm,” The doctor looks down at his clipboard, scribbles something, and then looks back up at Patricia. “Mrs. Stump, your sons are also exhibiting a peculiar response. It’s as if they have a telepathic neurobiological link, which we haven’t studied at all, ever, but if it’s true, then…”

“English, please.” Patricia joked. “Boop! I swear I pressed 1 for English, Doctor, but I have no clue what you just said.”

He laughed, swiping a hand through his hair. “They can feel what the other is experiencing. Both boys were sleeping, we took the oldest one and pricked his heel for the blood sample, and they both woke up crying. You know the legend of the American Beauty/ American Psycho twins? They’re exactly like them, except boys.”

Patricia looked unimpressed. “Okay. Can I have my sons now?”

“Ma’am, you do understand the implications of-“

“Of not giving an angry mother her sons? Yeah. I hope you do.” She made grabby hands at the doctor. “I’d like my children now, please.”

Shortly thereafter, Patricia had the two newborn boys in her arms, eyes closed, identical little faces snuggled into her chest. She breathed a soft sigh of awe, looking down at her sons. “Patrick and Martin.” She whispered to them. “You two are extraordinary.”


	2. The Fair

“Boys, smile for your picture!” Patrick Stump watched as his frazzled mother tried to coerce him and his brother, Martin, to stand next to each other for just long enough to snap a photo. “Come on, a picture at the gates of the fair! It’s tradition!”

“It’s gay,” Martin huffed under his breath, finally coming to stand next to Patrick, reaching a hand up and running it through his dyed-black hair that was already sticking up in every direction. His glare, only accentuated by heavy rings of eyeliner, wasn’t centered on anyone in particular, but if looks could kill then everyone at the fair would certainly be dead. He shimmied awkwardly in his leather jacket, crossing his arms and trying to look tough as he stood next to Patrick.

“ _I’m_ gay,” Patrick rebuked, poking his brother in the shoulder and laughing, ocean eyes twinkling in the sunlight. He stood on the toe of his pastel blue Converse and twirled briefly, hand on the flower crown perched in his blond hair so it wouldn’t fly off, earning a laugh from his mom and a glare from his brother. He quickly smoothed down his pastel green sweater over a pair of cuffed white skinny jeans with a stunning smile aimed at his mother’s iPhone camera.

“Oh, my boys,” Patricia smiled lovingly at the two of them. “You sure are different for identical twins.”

“You remind us every day.” Martin and Patrick say at the same time, Martin’s sentence managing to come out vindictive while Patrick’s came out sweet.

Patricia laughs, waving the two of them off. “Go, go, have fun. I’ll be behind you once Judy gets here.”

Patrick blew a kiss at his mom before he turned tail and went deeper into the fair, his brother not far behind him. There was a guy in the corner sneering at Patrick, a look in his eyes that Patrick didn’t care if he never saw again. “Hey, pretty boy, what’s your name?” He called.

“Why don’t you fuck off?” Martin yelled at the guy, standing next to his brother protectively, and Patrick sighed.

“I would have been fine, you know.” Patrick insisted. 

“I’m your older brother, it’s my job to protect you.” Martin gave the guy one more glare for good measure, and then he and Patrick started walking.

“You’re literally ten minutes older than me.” Patrick rolled his eyes. “Go do whatever it is boring people do at the fair, I’m gonna play games.”

The colourful, flashing booths brought a smile to Patrick’s face as he skipped through the fair, stopping at a ring toss game and handing the man behind it a token from his pocket. “Just one game, please,” He said with a breathtaking smile as the man handed him five rings. He honestly sucked at carnival games of all kinds, but the flashing lights and the smiling faces made it all exciting. He threw the rings with minimal success, managing to get one around a bottleneck on his last time and jumping up and down with a cheer. “I did it!” He grinned as the man handed him a tiny stuffed lemur the colour of cotton candy with huge, bubblegum eyes. “Thank you!”

The man laughed, rubbing a hand across one arm. “No sweat, kid.” He replied as Patrick skipped off, eyes wide, already looking for his next game after tucking the lemur’s silky soft tail into his belt loop. 

He saw a few other games and mentally noted where they were, but he had his eyes on the prize; or, rather, the game with a sign that proclaimed “GUARANTEED PRIZES!” That seemed to be exactly what he needed. It wasn’t anything groundbreaking, sort of a basketball toss game, exactly the kind that Patrick hated and Martin excelled at, but he could at least try. He handed the man in charge another of his tokens, and the row of basketballs was unlocked for him. “You know anything about basketball, flower boy?” The man asked, looking Patrick up and down.

“Nope!” Patrick giggled, grabbing one of the balls and throwing it the best he could in the general direction of the hoop.

The boy behind him in line to play the game sort of cleared his throat, but Patrick ignored him and tried to shoot another basket, succeeding in hitting the rim only to have it bounce off and into the netted sides. The boy sighed, clearing his throat for real this time. “Here,” He said, and Patrick turned around to be met with hazelnut mocha eyes and a gappy black fringe underneath a purple zip-up hoodie. “I’ll show you, if you want.”

“Would you?” Patrick gushed, taking in the boy who looked to be the exact type of person Martin would call a poser and not be caught dead around. “That would be amazing, thank you!”

The boy blushed, running a hand over his face before grabbing one of the basketballs. “Okay, so, you kind of like…” He demonstrated how to place his hands. “You see? Your fingers go on this line, and then your other hand just sort of helps hold up the ball, but your thumbs make kind of a retarded T shape, like… See?”

Patrick giggled, miming the boy’s motions. “Like that?” He asked, feeling awkward as he held the ball.

“Yeah, sort of, just…” The boy grabbed Patrick’s elbow, bringing it closer to his body. “Okay, try to shoot.” He stepped out of the way and Patrick shot the ball, leading it to swish straight through the net.

“I did it!” Patrick grinned, turning to the boy. “Thank you so much!”

“Yeah,” He said, smiling at the ground. “My name’s Pete, by the way.”

“I’m Patrick.” He grinned, picking up another ball and attempting to shoot again, just to miss completely. “I suck at sports.”

“Here.” Pete said, grabbing the last ball in the row and taking a shot effortlessly, leading it to swish through the hoop.

“That was amazing!” Patrick giggled, clapping for Pete who mock bowed. 

The man in charge of the game motioned to the rack of oversized stuffed animals. “Pick any one you want.” He said gruffly, and Patrick’s smile grew.

“The seahorse, oh, can I have the seahorse?” His face lit up as the man unclipped a giant yellow-and-purple pastel seahorse, handing it to Patrick with an easy smile. “Thank you so much! Thank you, too, Pete.” He smiled, awkwardly trying to hug the other boy while holding onto his seahorse.

“No problem,” Pete said, a blush creeping up his cheeks as he hugged Patrick (and the seahorse) back. “Um… Do you want to get an elephant ear or something?”

Patrick shrugged, nodding, and then smiling slyly. “Why, Pete, what’s this? Win me a seahorse, feed me, what are you suggesting?”

“A… A friendly elephant ear?” Pete held up both hands with a guilty smile on his face. “Nothing more, nothing less.”

“I might just have to take you up on that.” Patrick smiled, adjusting his flower crown with his spare hand. “That sounds wonderful.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Patrick found his mother, brother, and his mother’s friend, Judy at the front gates a few hours later, lugging his seahorse and an assortment of smaller animals with him. “Look what I got!” He called, grinning, and reveled in the surprised look on his mother’s face and the look of disdain on his brother’s.

“Oh my, honey, that’s a lot of animals!” Patricia said, grinning. “Good job!”

“Thanks!” Patrick turned to his brother. “Smile for me; you like them and you know it.”

“No I don’t, they’re fuckin’ dumb.” Martin insisted.

“You do too like them! Look, I even picked one just for you. It’s… This one.” He pulled out a small, soft stuffed panda with a red Mohawk. “There you go, happy birthday.”

“It’s not our birthday.” Martin griped, rolling his eyes and taking the stuffed panda anyways, dragging his thumb over the soft fabric. “I was never this annoying when I was your age.” 

“I’m sure you were plenty annoying ten minutes ago.” Patrick countered, flicking himself in the arm.

“Ow!” Martin said, rubbing his own arm in the corresponding spot. “You bastard!”

“What’s that make you?” Patrick gunned back, and everyone laughed at the two of them. Patrick popped the trunk on his mother’s car and shoved his stuffed animals inside before returning to the group, looking around silently for a second before standing up straight and grinning. “Shotgun!” He yelled, running for the passenger door and sliding onto the cool leather seat only seconds before Martin reached it.

“I swear to God!” Martin laughed, pushing Patrick’s shoulder playfully and then sliding into the backseat. “You suck.”

“Shhh, you love me.” Patrick winked in the rearview mirror just as his mother said goodbye to her friend and slid into the car next to him.

“Ready to go home?” She asked, smiling.

“Ready.” Patrick and Martin chorused before glaring at each other. Patrick, of course, was the one who laughed first.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos are the air in my lungs and the blood in my veins!  
> Follow me on Twitter @grin_reaper6 for random shit and outdated memes  
> ~xoxodaisukirose


	3. First Date

Pete sat across from Patrick in the booth of a retro themed diner, watching the boy suck at the straw of a chocolate milkshake absentmindedly. Full lips around the straw of the milkshake brought visions that were definitely not material for in-public-viewing into Pete’s brain, and he licked his lips unconsciously, tasting sweet strawberry lip gloss from when he’d kissed Patrick earlier in the afternoon. The blond boy’s pastel purple sweater was wrinkled and bunched up around his elbows, showing off a pair of plastic beaded bracelets; one was made of every colour imaginable, faded from time, and the other was monochrome black, grey, and white, twisting with the coloured one in a way that Pete was sure was someone’s aesthetic out there. 

Patrick looked up at Pete and smiled brightly, watching the way the darker boy’s hazelnut eyes smiled brighter than his face ever could. He had a puppy-dog eagerness written all over his face while he watched Patrick watch him, and Patrick giggled under his gaze. Truth be told, Patrick never thought he’d be in a relationship, let alone one with someone as amazing and empathic as Pete. It was just that Martin took ‘overprotective’ to a whole new level and tended to scare people away before Patrick had a chance to connect with them. He swore to himself that he wouldn’t let Martin mess this one up, even if he always had the best intentions. “You, uh…” Pete’s voice cut through the soft background music, something by Prince. “You have something, right…”

“Oh?” Patrick picked up a napkin, dabbing his cheek embarrassedly. “I, I didn’t realize, I…”

“Here, let me…” Pete grabbed the napkin, leaning in and licking Patrick’s cheek instead of using the napkin to wipe away the smudge of chocolate milkshake.

“Pete!” Patrick screeched, batting at him playfully and giggling like an idiot. “Ew, oh my gosh, that’s gross!”

Pete laughed, eyes lighting up like fireworks. “You should have seen your face, holy fuck, that was priceless. You’re too cute, you know that?”

Patrick blushed, averting his eyes just in time to see Martin walk in the diner door, walking up to the counter and flirting shamelessly with the waitress, kissing her on the cheek before he turned to find a seat. His eyes scanned the restaurant as Patrick shifted in his seat, trying to remain unseen by his twin, but to no avail. Martin spotted him, waving as he walked over, smiling softly. His smile all but fell off his face as he rounded the corner to see Pete sitting across from Patrick in the booth. “Oh, hey, Patrick, I didn’t know you were here with a friend.” He said, eyeing Pete up and down.

Pete’s head whipped up and he was met with a black-haired version of Patrick who was wearing a black button-up shirt rolled up to the elbows, skinny jeans, a black fedora with a maroon band and a pair of heavy combat boots, almost as if Patrick’s punk edit had walked in and slid into the seat next to him. “Uhm… Martin, this is my boyfriend, Pete.” He said nervously. “Pete, this is Martin, my twin brother.”

Martin glared at Pete across the table, wrapping an arm around his twin’s shoulders and smiling smugly. “Boyfriend?” He asked, mock hurt tinging his voice. “Et tu, Patrick? I’m hurt. Why didn’t you tell me?”

Pete was still staring at them both with wide eyes. He didn’t know Patrick had a twin! They looked so much alike, yet they were polar opposites, dark and light versions of each other. Patrick opted for light, flowery shades and pink eyeshadow while Martin was dressed in nearly all black and eyeliner, much like Pete himself. They had the same face, though, and nearly the same voice; Martin’s managed to be deeper, huskier. Patrick looked uncomfortable with his twin sitting next to him and made sure Martin knew, poking himself in his left side so Martin would feel it and hopefully get the clue, but to no avail. Martin just shot Patrick a glance and picked up the milkshake in the middle of the table, downing it easily. 

“So when were you going to introduce me to him?” Martin asked, licking his lips.

“I wasn’t.” Patrick muttered, attempting to pull what was left of the milkshake back towards himself. 

Martin gasped melodramatically. “I thought we told each other _everything,_ ” 

Patrick shrugged him off, an annoyed smile on his face. “I didn’t know you had a twin. You’re an AB, Patrick?” Pete said, his brain finally catching up to what was happening in front of him as he referred to the old myth of the American Beauty/ American Psycho twins that had been born hundreds of years before an continued to be born to this day.

“He doesn’t really advertise the fact, no.” Martin shrugged. “But what can a guy do?”

Pete looked between the brothers, noticing the chemistry. “Uhm, Patrick, do you wanna get out of here?” He sked tentatively, and Patrick nodded, poking his brother in the side to make him stand up before sliding out of the booth. He grabbed Pete’s hand, pulling him out of the seat and lacing their fingers together as Pete dropped a $10 bill on the table and they moved to walk out of the diner.

“So.” Pete said, once they were a distance down the road. “You have a twin?”

“I do, yeah.” Patrick said, laughing. “Martin’s not so bad once you get to know him. He can be a bit aggressive, I know, but he means well.”

“No, I get it, I’m way overprotective of my little sister, I’d be overprotective of my twin, too.” Pete affirmed, smiling softly. “It’s cool.”

“Okay, good.” Patrick laughed nervously as they passed a side-alley. “It’s a little crazy, but he’s my br-“

Just then, a hand snaked out of the alley and pulled Pete in, leaving Patrick to cry out in protest. Patrick would recognize the broad-shouldered back of the person holding Patrick to the wall anywhere – Martin. “What the heck are you doing, Martin?” Patrick almost yelled, flapping his hands uselessly by his sides, covered in the sleeves of his sweater.

“I swear to God,” Martin growled into Pete’s face, holding him up against the building easily. “If you ever, and I mean _ever,_ hurt Patrick, I will find you and I will kill you. Don’t think you can lay a hand on Patrick, I will know.” 

“Martin, holy smokes, let him go!” Patrick said, shoving at his twin’s chest. Marin let himself be pushed back, his sea-green eyes on Pete and filled with an emotion unfathomable. 

“I’d never hurt him, fuck, you could have just said it nicely!” Pete rubbed at his throat where Martin’s elbow had been pressed seconds ago. “I actually really like Patrick, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

“You better.” Martin growled, watching as Patrick laced his fingers with Pete’s, sending his twin one dirty glare before they turned around and started walking again, Patrick apologizing profusely for something Martin would never be sorry for. He watched as Pete managed to laugh about it about halfway down the block, pressing a chaste kiss to Patrick’s cheek.

Martin reached his hand up and ghosted it over his own cheek, feeling the butterfly feeling of Pete’s lips against his brother’s face. He didn’t really have anything against Pete, no, but a good preemptive scare wasn’t beyond him by any means.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos are the air in my lungs and the blood in my veins!  
> Follow me on Twitter @grin_reaper6 for random shit and outdated memes  
> ~xoxodaisukirose


	4. IDEK what to title this but hey it happened

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, it's in the tags, plain as day "Accidental telepathic sex" so yeah. This is the chapter, my good friends. :')

“Wait, so if you’re part of an AB/AP twin set, does that mean that Martin could feel if it I did… this?” Pete asked almost a week later as he poked Patrick in the ribs, causing the pastel boy to giggle and fall back onto Pete’s blue bedspread.

“Yeah, he can.” Patrick affirmed. “If he’s awake, anyways.”

“That’s crazy.” Pete’s eyes widened. “So, like, if one of you gets a cut or breaks a bone, then…”

“Martin broke his arm when we were six,” Patrick began, smiling fondly at the memory. “And I cried for a week. He never shed a single tear, though. The doctor was telling him how tough he was while here I was, bawling my eyes out because it hurt.”

Pete laughed sympathetically. “Oh my God, that’s horrible!” He said in between laughs. “Is it bad that I’m happy I’m not a twin?”

“No, you should be happy.” Patrick affirmed, giggling. “It’s pretty terrible, especially because of the touch thing.”

Pete laughed, but then got a completely serious look on his face. “Oh, holy shit dude, how the hell do you jack off?”

Patrick’s face went bright red and he coughed. “Well, uh… You see…”

“Oh my God!” Pete laughed, watching as Patrick fidgeted on his bed. “That’s so messed up, like, holy fuck, I think I’d die if that was the case. So, you can feel it every time your brother decides to…?”

“Yeah.” Patrick blushed, staring at his hands. “Uhm, this is a really awkward subject.”

“Does that mean that Martin felt it when we were making out yesterday?” Pete asked.

“Uhm, probably, yeah…” Patrick said, worried his face was going to stay permanently this shade of red. 

Pete shook his head, laughter dying down to a contagious smile. “Crazy.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Martin had went out for fries. He woke up somewhere around 2 PM on his friend’s couch and all he wanted was one or three large orders of fries from McDonalds, and he was almost home with his bag of potato goodness when a wracking pleasure spiked up his body. He gasped loudly, biting his lip to stifle a moan as he fell against a tree on the side of the pavement. He grabbed onto a branch of the tree to steady himself as his legs nearly gave out underneath him. _Fuck,_ he thought, his mind replaying that one word on repeat. 

He knew he was just feeling what was happening to Patrick, or, more specifically, what Pete was doing to Patrick, and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t turned on. He felt carful fingers stretching him apart, soft kisses to his thighs and the base of his dick, breath ghosting across sensitive skin in a way that drove him absolutely crazy. He had to get home, and he had to get home fast. He attempted to compose himself, carrying the bag of fries in front of the growing bulge in his skinny jeans as he practically ran the rest of the way home, praying to a God he barely believed in that Patrick and Pete were at Pete’s house and not his own. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Pete’s hands cradled Patrick’s back, Pete’s head buried in the younger boy’s neck as he thrust into him, stifling moans into the soft skin at the base of Patrick’s shoulder. The air between them was hot and heavy, filled with breathy gasps from Patrick and aborted curse words from Pete. Patrick’s head was tilted back, neck exposed, blinding pleasure coursing through his body and pooling in his gut at the feeling of Pete filling him up. “F-faster,” Patrick moaned out, fingers scratching down Pete’s back as Pete heeded his words with a muttered “fuck,” and that was when he felt it. He felt a hand on his dick, a hand that wasn’t really there, and screamed out in pleasure. _Martin,_ he remembered. “Pete, holy smokes, M… Martin… He…”

“Oh, fuck,” Pete grunted. “I f-forgot about him,”

He didn’t make any motions to stop though, hands migrating down to Patrick’s hips, holding onto soft skin hard enough to leave bruises in the shape of his fingertips the next day. His thrusts became erratic and uneven as his breathing sped up, the absolutely filthy sound of skin on skin echoing throughout Pete’s bedroom. “I… I’m-“ Pete’s words were cut off as he buried himself in Patrick, hiding his head in his boyfriend’s shoulder and shuddering out a long moan as Patrick felt warmth course through him.

Pete reached a hand between them as he fell off of Patrick, spent, and fisted the younger boy’s dick, stroking him roughly to climax. Patrick’s lips fell open in a soundless cry, too much pleasure to comprehend hitting his body at once as he came over Pete’s fist, feeling Martin work himself through his own orgasm on the other end of their neurotelepathic connection. “Holy fuck,” Patrick said, the curse word foreign on his lips. 

Pete laughed breathily, chest heaving next to Patrick, tattoos slick with sweat. They were quiet for a moment before Patrick turned over and kissed Pete chastely. “I can’t believe we just did that.” Patrick giggled.

“Well, now Martin knows how good I am in bed, too.” Pete teased, just as Patrick’s phone went off on the bedside table.

_**Brother Dearest, One Unread:** ur an asshole _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahahahah IDK if I'm continuing this, but I really do like the AU. So far, all credit goes straight to BlueRabbits for being amazing and thePetetoherPatrick for convincing me that doing a work based on her girlfriend's work wasn't a dumb idea. Love you two! <3  
> Comments and kudos are the air in my lungs and the blood in my veins!  
> Follow me on Twitter @grin_reaper6 for random shit, outdated memes, and the occasional YouTube video!  
> ~xoxodaisukirose


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